Tabby and Prongs, Jr
by Jestana
Summary: There are plenty of 'Snape-saves-Harry-from-the-Dursleys' fics, but what about McGonagall? Wouldn't she be a better choice? Here's a possibility. COMPLETED 9-29-03
1. Tabby to the Rescue!

1. Tabby to the Rescue!

A/N: I read 'The Tabby Cat and The Boy Who Lived' by Sky Renae Snape and it inspired me to write my own version. I showed it to her and she insisted that I go ahead and post it, so here it is. Obviously, since I'm writer and Sky isn't, there will be substantial differences between the two fics. I would encourage you to go read Sky's fic as well as mine, but she has taken it down.

A tousle-haired teenaged boy looked up from spreading mulch in the garden of Number 4, Privet Drive and spotted a cat crouched underneath the car in the driveway. He shrugged and went back to what he was doing. It was a late afternoon in early July and the boy was lonely. He missed his friends, he missed his school, he even missed his teachers. A sallow, hook-nosed face framed with greasy black hair appeared in his mind's eye and he grimaced. Well, not _all_ of his teachers. He glanced at the cat under the car. The cat was hidden in the shadows and he couldn't really see the markings. He sighed and spread the last bit of mulch before standing and stretching. He winced when his back twinged and rubbed the back of his neck. Sighing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his face. It was too bloody hot to work outside, but his relatives obviously didn't agree. Stuffing the handkerchief back into his pocket, the boy picked up the bag of leftover mulch and carried it to the garden shed. He lingered in the welcome coolness until, "POTTER!"

The boy groaned and left the garden shed. He dragged his feet as he walked to the house, trying to delay the inevitable. However, when he finally stood in front of his uncle, he met the man's small glittering eyes squarely with his own bright green ones. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

There was a smack and the teenager found himself sprawled on the floor, his cheek stinging. "Don't you give me any cheek, Potter."

The boy carefully got to his feet, resisting the urge to touch his cheek. "Yes, Sir."

"Now, down to the basement with you," the large, beefy man told the skinny boy.

"Yes, Sir." Without another word, the boy spun on his heel and headed for the basement. At the top of the stairs, someone pushed him from behind, sending him sprawling down the steps. He looked up in time to see the door close at the top of the stairs. He sighed and dragged himself to the cot in the corner. In a cage nearby, a snowy owl hooted softly as he curled up on the cot. "It's alright, Hedwig. It wasn't too bad today. At least I was outside." As the boy slowly drifted off to sleep, he didn't notice the cat peering in through the window at him.

* * *

The sleek silver tabby rushed to Wisteria Walk with almost unseemly haste. She barreled through the cat door of Number 8, skidded on the kitchen tile, and came to an abrupt and ungainly stop against one of the cupboards, startling the old woman standing at the counter, who happened to be pouring cat food into a bowl. "Min! What's got into you?"

The tabby got to her feet and changed into a tall, thin woman with black hair coming loose from the bun she normally pulled it into, square spectacles that were slightly askew on the bridge of her narrow nose, and wearing emerald green robes that were a tad mussed. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she was visibly trembling from a combination of suppressed rage and fear, clenching and unclenching her hands into fists. "I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to startle you."

The other woman smiled and made a clucking noise with her tongue as she set several bowls of cat food on the floor. Half a dozen cats came running into the kitchen from various parts of the house and converged on the three bowls. "I understand, Min. Let's go into the living room to talk."

'Min' nodded and followed 'Bella' into the living room, smoothing her robes and attempting to do the same with her hair as they sat down a couch in front of the fire. When the ebony strands refused to be smoothed back into the bun, 'Min' made a frustrated noise and pulled out the pins holding the bun in place. "I don't suppose you have any tea?"

"I always do, Minerva, you know that," 'Bella' gave her friend a strange look.

Minerva pulled a wand out of her pocket. "May I?" 'Bella' nodded. Minerva waved her wand and two cups of tea were soaring into the room, one for each woman.

Minerva plucked hers out of the air and took a sip. 'Bella' was a bit more hesitant, but eventually did so as well. After taking a sip, she looked at the other woman. "Well, Minerva?"

Minerva kept her eyes on the brown liquid in her cup. "Well what, Bella?"

"Why did you come tearing into my house like that? It isn't like you at all." There was concern in her dark green eyes as 'Bella' studied her companion closely.

Minerva closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before setting her cup on the low table in front of the couch. "I've just come from Privet Drive, Bella."

'Bella' stared at Minerva. "And?"

Minerva's dark blue eyes were haunted when she looked at the other woman. "And they're beating him, Arabella. They're beating Harry."

Minerva drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face in them, overwhelmed by memories for the moment. Arabella scooted closer and touched a shaking emerald-clad shoulder. Minerva lifted her head and stared at Arabella with tear-filled eyes. Arabella silently opened her arms and Minerva clung to the other woman, sobbing into her shoulder. Arabella closed her eyes as she held her friend, cradling her as she would a small child. "Shh, Min, shh. It's over now. He can't hurt you anymore."

It was a long time before Minerva stopped crying and even longer before she finally pulled away. "Thanks, Sis."

"Anytime, Sis," Arabella replied with a sympathetic smile as Minerva pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose. "I think you should go to bed now."

"What about Harry?" Minerva asked, mopping her face. "We can't leave him with the Dursleys."

"Albus will think of something, Min," Arabella assured her sister. "Right now, you need to sleep."

Minerva sighed as she tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket. "Yes, Mother."

Arabella smiled again. "Bed, now."

Minerva nodded and climbed the stairs to Arabella's guest bedroom. When Arabella followed fifteen minutes later, she wasn't surprised to find the sleek silver tabby curled up at the foot of her bed. She sighed and stroked the cat. "This one time only, Min."

The cat purred in acknowledgment. When Arabella crawled under the covers after changing into her nightgown, the cat curled up against her stomach.

* * *

Harry was rudely awakened the next morning when his cot was upended and he tumbled to the concrete floor. "Up, Boy, you have chores to do."

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied, struggling not to wince as he got to his feet.

Grabbing the boy's upper arm, Vernon steered him up the stairs. Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out as he stubbed his toes on more than one step. When they reached the top, Vernon shoved Harry through the kitchen door to land in a heap on the floor. "Make breakfast, and mind you don't burn it, Potter."

"Yes, Ma'am." Harry got to his feet and shuffled over to the stove.

"Hurry up, Potter." Dudley barked from his seat at the kitchen table.

When Harry didn't reply, a clout around his ears sent him tumbling to the floor. "Show your cousin respect, Potter."

"Yes, Sir," Harry stood up and continued making breakfast. He almost longed for the half-fear; half-respect his relatives had shown him the previous summer. At least he hadn't been knocked on his bum every time he turned around. He knew he didn't have much of a choice, though. Because Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister, he was protected from Voldemort so long as he returned to Number 4 Privet Drive at least once a year. How long he had to stay at Privet Drive was determined by Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He hoped it wouldn't be too much longer before he could leave, but he refused to tell any of his friends about getting beat up. He'd been beat up before he'd learned he was a wizard. He could handle it this time, too. He had to. He didn't want his friends in any danger because he couldn't handle a little pain. He'd survived worse and he would survive this. That resolve made, he returned his attention to making breakfast. Since his back was to the window, he didn't see the cat peeking through it at him.

* * *

When Arabella had woken up without the silver tabby curled up beside her that morning, she'd assumed that Minerva had gone to Albus Dumbledore about the fact that the Dursleys were beating Harry. She was startled when a silver streak burst through the cat door, skidded on the tile floor, and crashed into the cupboards as she was making breakfast. "Min, don't you think you would have learned by now?"

The cat didn't even look up at Arabella as it set something it had been carrying in its mouth on the floor and changed back into Minerva. This time, she was wearing a pair of black trousers and a dark blue blouse. "Shut up, Bella."

Arabella's eyes were fixed on what Minerva had been carrying in her mouth. It was a mouse and it wasn't moving. "Is that--"

"Shut up, Bella," Minerva repeated through gritted teeth as she pulled her wand out of her pocket, stepped back, and pointed it at the mouse. In moments, the mouse had been replaced by an unconscious teenage boy with messy black hair and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, clad in shabby clothes that were far too big for him and a pair of round glasses that had been broken. His face was bruised and battered and Arabella could tell that he was having difficulty breathing. Minerva tucked her wand back in her pocket and carefully rolled the boy onto his back. "Harry?"

He didn't stir. "Min, what did you do?"

Minerva's eyes were steely when she looked up at her sister. "They would have killed him, Bella. I couldn't wait while we contacted Albus and asked him what to do."

"Well, now what do we do?" Arabella demanded as Minerva checked the boy for a pulse. "Albus won't be pleased with you."

"I don't care," Minerva shot back, carefully picking Harry up. "He may be the Boy Who Lived, but those Muggles don't care."

Arabella watched helplessly as Minerva carried Harry up the stairs and, presumably, to the guest bedroom. She went into the living room and, pulling some Floo Powder from the jar on the mantel, threw it onto the fire. "Albus Dumbledore."

After a moment, Albus' head appeared in the flames. "Ah, Arabella, good morning."

"Albus, I hate to disturb you, but Minerva's gone and done something rather rash," Arabella informed him, worry etched on her features.

* * *

He groaned as something cool and wet was placed on his forehead. "No, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

"Shh, Harry," a familiar voice replied as someone squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who?" Harry asked, trying to open his eyes. He managed to open the left one and stared at the woman sitting in a chair beside the bed he was on. "Professor?"

She smiled sadly at him. "It's alright, Harry, no one's going to hurt you."

"Why, Professor? Won't Dumbledore be mad at you?" Harry was too weak to do anything more than stare at her.

The stern professor he'd come to know over the past five years appeared. "Don't ask questions, Mr. Potter. You need to rest."

"Rest," Harry murmured, letting his eye fall shut. "That sounds so wonderful."

As he drifted off to sleep, he felt the cool, wet something on his forehead be replaced by another cool, wet something.

* * *

Albus brushed soot off his robes and looked at Arabella, who stood nearby. "Where is she?"

"She took him upstairs," Arabella replied. "Probably to the guest bedroom."

Albus nodded and headed up the stairs. He'd known Minerva and Arabella for years. He'd attended their each of their weddings. When Minerva had run from her husband, she'd run straight to Albus and confessed everything to him. He'd been there for Minerva all through the divorce proceedings, giving her the support she'd needed. He'd helped comfort Arabella when her husband had died, offered her the job of watching over Harry to help ease the pain a little. He knew Minerva would not have interfered without a good reason and he was determined to find out before he made any decisions. He reached the guest bedroom and knocked softly on the door. When Minerva opened it, she didn't seem surprised to see him. "I knew she'd call you."

"May I come in?" he asked, matching her quiet tone of voice.

Silently, she opened the door and stepped aside. He stepped past her and approached the bed. Harry was stretched out on his back, a damp flannel on his forehead. His clothes were rumpled and torn, but at least they were clean. He drew in a deep breath when he saw the bruising on his face and arms. He could only imagine what the rest of his body looked like. He slowly sank into the chair and watched as Minerva moved forward and changed the flannel on his forehead.

"What happened, Minerva?" he asked quietly, watching as she carefully unbuttoned Harry's shirt and moved it aside. "What did they do to him?"

Her voice was quiet as she told him what she had witnessed...

* * *

"Boy, get me some coffee," Vernon barked.

"Yes, Sir." Harry turned to the coffeepot and poured a mug of the black brew.

"I want some orange juice," Dudley announced once Harry had set the mug of coffee in front of Vernon.

"Yes, Dudley," Harry answered through gritted teeth.

The next minute, he saw stars because Vernon had slammed his fist into his face. "Show Dudley proper respect, Boy."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry wasn't even on his feet when Vernon's beefy fist plowed into his stomach, sending him sliding across the kitchen floor on his back, crashing headfirst into the cupboards. As his vision dimmed, he heard a window shatter, followed by a heart-stopping yowl as a sleek silver tabby landed on the floor between him and the Dursleys.

Harry didn't see the cat become Minerva McGonagall, but the Dursleys did and all three stared at her. "You're the bloody cat from fifteen years ago."

Vernon started towards the witch, but she pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. "Don't tempt me, Dursley. You've no idea how important this boy is."

"That boy," Vernon spat the word as if it left a nasty taste in his mouth, "has been nothing but trouble ever since he was left on our front step. Why couldn't one of you _freaks_ take him in, instead of saddling us with him?"

Minerva's eyes glittered dangerously. "You're toeing a thin line, Dursley. Don't cross it."

"Oh, am I?" Vernon sneered, his contempt for Harry and the wizarding world in general overriding his common sense. "What are you going to do to me? Turn me into a toad?"

Minerva gave him a feral grin. "No, that would be far too kind. Have you ever seen a cat when it's caught a mouse?"

The blood suddenly drained from Vernon's face. "You wouldn't--you're not allowed--"

"Just because I'm not allowed to doesn't mean I won't," she snarled, struggling to control her temper. She waved her wand. "Upstairs, all three of you." Petunia and Dudley obeyed her immediately, leaving Vernon to face her alone. "You, two, Dursley."

"What are you going to do with him?" Vernon growled.

"What I should have done a long time ago," she spat, "take him away from here."

"Fine," Vernon replied, "just so long as we don't see him ever again."

With that, he stormed from the room. Minerva knelt beside Harry and pulled him away from the cupboard. "Harry?" He moaned and stirred. "Harry, wake up."

His fluttered open and he stared up at her. "P-Professor? Wha--"

"I'm taking you away from here," she told him quietly. "Where are your things?"

"Smallest bed...room," he told her, struggling to breathe.

"Don't move," she answered before getting up and dashing from the room. It didn't take her long to find gather his things. She Transfigured all of them into rocks and tucked them into her pockets before hurrying back downstairs. Harry was still stretched out on the floor, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. She knelt beside him once more. "Harry?" He didn't respond. Fighting back the worry she felt at his lack of response, she pulled out her wand. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to do this." She Transfigured him into a mouse and tucked her wand back into her pocket. Switching to her feline form, she picked him up in her mouth and left Number 4 Privet Drive...

* * *

Throughout the tale, she had carefully tended to the bruises that had marred his skin, find each one and murmuring a healing spell. By the time she finished telling her tale, Harry's torso was free of bruises and his breathing was easier. She re-buttoned his shirt and changed the flannel on his forehead. Finally, she looked up at Albus. "I couldn't just leave him, Albus. If they'd kept on that way, they would have killed him."

Albus rose and pulled her into a comforting embrace, holding her as she let tears of pain and sympathy flow freely. "It's alright, Tabby. Although I would have preferred you had contacted me, you did right. If his own relatives will treat him like this, the protection won't work as well."

She pulled back and stared up at him, her face still streaked with tears. "What do you mean, Albus?"

He sighed. "I'll explain later. Harry is our main concern right now."

She wiped her face and looked at the boy. "I've done what I can for him, but I really think Poppy needs to look at him."

Albus nodded and handed his handkerchief to her. "I'll go get her. You keep an eye on Harry."

She nodded and mopped her face with his handkerchief as she sat down in the chair by the bed, watching over Harry. Casting a last, anxious glance at the boy, Albus left the room and headed downstairs to contact Poppy.

* * *

He could hear voices nearby, sounding anxious. "How bad is he, Poppy?"

"Not as bad as he could have been," a second voice replied. "It's good thing you know those healing spells, Minerva."

"Only because I've been through two wars already, Poppy," the first voice sounded a little embarrassed. "How long will it take for him to recover?"

"A couple weeks," the second voice sounded tired. "More if he doesn't take it easy. He needs to go somewhere quiet and remote."

"In other words, not the Burrow?" a third voice inserted, sounding amused.

"I'm afraid so, Headmaster," the second voice answered. "I know Molly loves the boy, but all the people would be too much for him at this point."

"I understand," the third voice responded. "But who will take him in while he recovers?"

"I will," the first voice spoke up.

Silence, and then the second voice spoke up. "Are you sure, Minerva?"

"Absolutely, Poppy." The first voice sounded firm.

"Headmaster?"

"I don't see why not, Poppy," the third voice commented thoughtfully. "Would you mind some help, Minerva?"

"What kind of help?"

"One of the house-elves at Hogwarts has befriended Harry and I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping to care for the boy."

"Which house-elf?"

"Dobby."

"Isn't he the one who would like nothing better than to tear Kreacher limb from limb?"

"The very same."

"Very well. It will keep the two apart, at any rate."

"Quite right."

Harry finally managed to open his eyes and was surprised to see Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway, talking in quiet voices. Professor McGonagall was wearing black trousers and a dark blue blouse; Madam Pomfrey was wearing a pale green summer dress; and Professor Dumbledore was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt. He watched as the three of them turned and approached the bed. Madam Pomfrey smiled when she saw that Harry was awake. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?"

"Better," he managed to croak. "Not sore anymore."

"That's good to hear," Professor Dumbledore commented with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Do I have to go back to the Dursleys?" Harry asked, looking up at their concerned faces.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry, you don't have to go back to them ever again."

"Where do I go from here, then?" he asked anxiously. "And where am I, anyway?"

"You're at Arabella Figg's house," Professor McGonagall informed him crisply. "As for where you'll go from here: I'll be taking you to my home, where you can rest and recuperate."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry smiled gratefully up at her.

"You're welcome, Harry," she replied with a smile of her own. It made her look much younger.

He yawned then, feeling sleepy. "We'll let you rest now, Mr. Potter. Come along, Minerva, Headmaster." The three adults left the room as Harry slowly drifted off to sleep.


	2. To Tabby's House

2. To Tabby's House  
  
A/N: Heh, this one's a bit of an emotional roller coaster for poor Harry. When is it ever not, though? Anyway, enjoy.  
  
When Harry woke up the next morning, a sleek silver tabby was curled up next to him. Two other cats were curled up at the foot of the bed: a white, black, and orange calico and a white long-haired cat. He recognized the two at the foot as belonging to Mrs. Figg, but the silver tabby puzzled him for a moment; until he spotted the markings around the eyes. He smiled and stroked the silver tabby. It woke up and stared at him for a moment before yawning. "Good morning, Professor."  
  
The cat meowed and jumped from the bed to the chair, to be replaced by Professor McGonagall, who was smiling. "Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better," he replied, stretching and disturbing the two cats at the foot of the bed. Both made sounds of annoyance and, jumping down, stalked out of the room. "I don't think they appreciated that very much."  
  
The professor shook her head. "No, they didn't."  
  
Harry stared at her. "You can understand cats?"  
  
"Of course," she answered, raising an eyebrow. "That _is_ my Animagus form, after all."  
  
Harry considered that for a moment. "You have a point there."  
  
Professor McGonagall fidgeted for a moment before speaking again. "Are you hungry?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment before nodding. "Ravenous, actually."  
  
"Do you think you're strong enough to walk?" she asked, standing and moving to the edge of the bed.  
  
He carefully sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He swayed slightly when he stood up and had to grab Professor McGonagall's arm to steady himself. "A little help might not be a bad idea."  
  
She nodded and let him lean on her arm as they left the bedroom and went downstairs. When they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Figg was already at the stove, cooking. Several cats were lounging around in the kitchen, apparently waiting for tidbits. Harry sank into a chair at the table with a grateful sigh and didn't have long to wait before a plate of food was placed in front of him. Picking up the fork, he began to eat. When he looked up, his plate was clean. "Would you like some more, Harry?"  
  
"Yes, please," he replied, smiling as Mrs. Figg picked up the plate and carried it to the stove to put more food on it. He looked at Professor McGonagall, who was poking at her eggs with her fork. "Are you alright, Professor?"  
  
She looked up at him and smiled faintly. "I'm quite alright, Harry."  
  
He studied her for a moment. This was really his first chance to see her outside of Hogwarts. The glimpse he'd gotten last summer hadn't been much. Her black hair had been pulled back into a braid that almost reached her waist and she wore the same clothes he'd seen her wearing the day before. "Are you sure, Professor?"  
  
Minerva sighed and, setting her fork down, took her glasses off before rubbing her eyes. She then put her glasses back on and regarded him calmly. "I will be. And there's no need for you to call me 'Professor' right now. We're not at Hogwarts."  
  
"What _do_ I call you, then?" he asked as Mrs. Figg set his refilled plate in front of him. "Miss McGonagall?"  
  
"Aunt Minerva will be fine," she told him, and then looked over the tops of her glasses at him. "However, I still expect you to call me Professor when we return to Hogwarts in September."  
  
He stared at her. "You mean, I'm really going to be spending the rest of the summer with you?"  
  
She nodded, appearing slightly puzzled. "Yes, why would I lie to you?"  
  
Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them back fiercely. "Thank you, Prof--Aunt Minerva."  
  
"You're welcome," she smiled at him and began to eat.  
  
A sudden thought struck him. "My things--they're at the Dursleys' house."  
  
Minerva shook her head, still smiling. "No, they're not, Harry. I had no intention of letting you be sent back there, so I took the liberty of removing your possessions."  
  
Relief flooded through him. "Thank you, again, Aunt Minerva." A hooting sound interrupted them and a large snowy owl swooped through the open window. "Hedwig!"  
  
She landed gracefully on Harry's arm and the boy stroked her feathers. "She really is quite smart, Harry."  
  
He smiled as she fluttered to one the back of the unoccupied chairs. "Yes, she definitely is."  
  
After a few more minutes, Minerva excused herself so she could go change. Harry watched her go with some anxiety. "Don't worry, Harry. If Min says you can stay with her, she means it."  
  
"Thanks, Mrs. Figg," Harry smiled at the old woman as she began cleaning dishes. "Would you like some help?"  
  
"Not from you, young man," she replied, wagging a finger at him. "You're supposed to be resting. Poppy's orders."  
  
Harry nodded and absently stroked Hedwig. After a few moments, he asked a question that had been bothering him for some time. "How do you two know each other?"  
  
Arabella sighed and turned the water off. She stared out the window for a long time before turning to look at Harry. "I told you last summer that I'm a Squib, Harry, and that's true, though I'd give anything for it to be false." She crossed to the table and sat down with a heavy sigh. "The McGonagall clan is an old one, powerful and respected. They hadn't produced a Squib in over a thousand years." She sighed again. "Until I was born. Min was six at the time and everyone expected me to be just as powerful as Min was turning out to be." She gave Harry a look that was very reminiscent of Minerva's. "You've seen only portion of her power, Harry. There is a reason she's good at what she does." She sighed a third time. "Min has never looked down on me because I'm a Squib and I'm grateful for it. Without her support, I would have given up on the world a long time ago." She shook herself and looked at Harry as if she'd just realized he was there. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling on."  
  
"Very well, Harry, are you ready to go?" Minerva's voice prevented Harry from coming up with a reply.  
  
He got to his feet and swayed for a moment before steadying himself. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." He carefully walked over to join her. She was wearing lightweight green-blue summer dress that fell to her ankles and had a broad white collar. "How are we getting there?"  
  
She held up a book. "By portkey." He shuddered. "I know you don't like them, but Floo powder won't be practical with the condition you're in."  
  
He nodded and smiled wryly. "Yes, Aunt Minerva." She held the book out to him and he took hold of it. "One...two...three." Harry felt a familiar jerk behind his navel and his feet left the ground as Mrs. Figg's kitchen disappeared around them.  
  
* * *  
  
When Minerva and Harry landed in an undignified heap in the middle of the living room floor, three women were waiting for them. One was slightly shorter than Minerva, with gray hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck and large brown eyes. The second was about average height with spiky gray hair and hawk-like yellow eyes. The third was short and plump with flyaway hair and clear blue eyes. Minerva sat up with a wince, rubbing her elbow. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the three women. "What are you three doing here?"  
  
Beside her, Harry sat up, looking rather pale. His eyes widened when he saw the three women. "Madam Pomfrey? Professor Sprout? Madam Hooch?"  
  
"Hello, Harry," Xiomara stepped forward and helped the boy to his feet while Poppy helped Minerva up. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Better," he replied as she steadied him. "Why are you here?"  
  
"To help you and Minerva," Poppy replied, easing Xiomara out of the way so she could examine Harry. "You seem to have survived the trip here without too much trouble."  
  
Harry gave her a weak smile. "I'm a little tired, though."  
  
"Would you like to take a nap, Harry?" Minerva asked, concerned.  
  
He nodded and leaned on her arm. "That...would be nice."  
  
Minerva nodded and helped him to the guest bedroom. Once he was settled in bed, she pulled several rocks out of her pockets and Transfigured them back into his belongings. "Sleep well, Harry."  
  
"Thanks, Aunt Minerva," Harry murmured as she tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind her.  
  
When she returned to the living room, Poppy and Sylvia were perched on the couch while Xiomara was sprawled on her back on the floor. They looked up when she came in. "Did he get any sleep last night?"  
  
Minerva sank into and armchair and tucked her feet up underneath her. "Yes, he slept last night, Poppy. However, it wasn't very restful."  
  
Poppy narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean that he was tossing and turning quite a bit as he slept." Minerva sighed and massaged her temples. "I'm afraid the Dursleys have been rather vicious."  
  
Xiomara rolled her eyes. "That's an understatement, Min."  
  
"Hush, 'Mara," Sylvia scolded and turned to Minerva. "Is it true, Min? Are you really going to look after Mr. Potter?"  
  
She nodded, pulling the end of her braid over her shoulder and fidgeting with it. "Yes, Sylvia. His friends will be free to visit, but I think it'd be best if we don't move him around very much this summer. He has enough to deal with at this point."  
  
The other three nodded. Sylvia was the first to leave, followed shortly by Xiomara. Poppy insisted on checking on Harry before leaving herself. Once she had assured herself that Harry was fine, she insisted on examining Minerva. "You were supposed to take things easy this summer, Minerva! After all, it's been less than a month--"  
  
"I know, Poppy," Minerva cut her off quietly. "I just wanted to feel useful."  
  
Poppy sniffed. "Well, you still seem to be fine, though you really should be using that walking stick more often. You're not as young as you once were."  
  
Minerva nodded absently. "Yes, Poppy."  
  
Poppy harrumphed. "I'm sure Albus will be by later." With that, she, too, left.  
  
Left alone, Minerva sank into a chair and, within moments, fell asleep herself, curled up like a cat. She was jerked from her sleep by a loud, sustained scream. Stumbling to her feet, she barreled down the hall to the guest bedroom. Harry, drenched with sweat, was clutching at his forehead as if it was hurting him. "Harry! Harry!"  
  
She rushed to the bed and gathered him into her arms. He slowly calmed down as she rocked him in her arms. Finally, with a gasp, he woke up. He stared at her as if he couldn't identify her for a long moment before recognition dawned. "Aunt Minerva, it's Voldemort. He--he--"  
  
"Shh, Harry, shh," she murmured, stroking his hair. "Calm down before you make yourself sick."  
  
He nodded, burrowing into her, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks. When a long, thin hand touched her shoulder, Minerva looked up to find Albus Dumbledore standing over them, concern in his eyes. She nodded and he carefully perched on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around both of them. Harry jumped and stared at the Headmaster before burrowing back into Minerva's shoulder. They remained that way until Harry stopped shaking and sat up. "I'm ready to talk now."  
  
"What did you see, Harry?" Albus asked quietly, Minerva's right hand entwined with his left. "Did you see Voldemort?"  
  
Harry nodded, closing his eyes. They snapped open almost immediately, as if what he had dreamed had appeared in his mind's eye. He swallowed hard and took the hand Minerva offered to him, clinging to it as if it was a lifeline. "I have no family left."  
  
Minerva and Albus exchanged looks. Minerva's was puzzled, but Albus only looked resigned. Minerva was the one who asked the question. "What do you mean, Harry?"  
  
"Voldemort killed them." Harry's voice trembled and he took several deep breaths before continuing. "I didn't see what exactly he did to them, only a green flash as he killed them with a single curse." He shuddered and Minerva pulled him into a comforting embrace. His voice was little more than a whisper when he continued. "They may not have treated me all that well, but seeing them die--"  
  
His voice broke and, burying his face in Minerva's shoulder once more, began to sob uncontrollably. Albus moved from where he'd been sitting beside her to sandwich the teenager between them. Together, they held the boy as he grieved for the deaths of the last of his family.  
  
* * *  
  
Several hours later, they had moved to the kitchen, sitting at the round table, each with a mug of tea in front of them. The setting sun leant an orange glow to the room. Harry had yet to say anything more, staring into his mug. Minerva watched him worriedly, tapping the rim of her mug with the tip of one slender finger. Her free hand was entwined with Albus'. Of the three of them, Albus was the only one actually drinking tea. Finally, he spoke. "Harry?"  
  
The green eyes that met his were devoid of emotion. "I'll be fine, Professor." He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Not right away, but I will be."  
  
Albus nodded and sipped his tea. Minerva brought up a question that had been niggling at the back of her mind. "Albus, why are you here?"  
  
"I came to check in on you and Harry, Minerva," Albus replied calmly. "Sylvia, Xiomara, and Poppy told me you two had arrived safely, but I wanted to see for myself."  
  
"Thank you, Albus." Minerva smiled up at him wearily.  
  
"You're welcome, Minerva." He returned the smile with one of his own.  
  
After a few silent minutes, Harry spoke up. "What will happen to me now?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, puzzled. "You may stay here if you like. Unless you'd rather go to the Burrow--"  
  
Harry waved his hand. "No, I don't mean that, Aunt Minerva. I meant who's my guardian now that the last of my family is gone?"  
  
"Guardianship is normally given to the next of kin," Albus explained, setting his mug on the table. "When there is no family to look after you, any who wish to look after you will be given a chance to petition for guardianship and you will select your guardian from those who petition."  
  
Harry nodded thoughtfully. After a few moments of silence, he excused himself and returned to his room. Minerva turned to the man sitting beside her. "Albus, you were expecting this, weren't you?"  
  
He nodded his head, his hand tightening around hers. "His mother's blood protects him only so much, Minerva. Once they began treating him as if he was worse than a slave, the protection of his mother's blood began to weaken." Bright blue eyes met dark blue. "In a way, your interference saved him, my dear. If you hadn't stepped in, there's no telling how much longer the protection would have lasted."  
  
Minerva nodded, pushing her now-cold tea away from her. "I'm just so worried, Albus. He'll blame himself for these deaths. He might not be as reckless or...arrogant..." she smiled wryly at the term, remembering the many complaints Severus had made, "as his father, but he has James' tendency to be nobly self-sacrificing."  
  
Albus nodded and lifted her hand to his lips. "Yes, Minerva. I will visit the Burrow first thing in the morning to inform Molly and Arthur of what has happened. I'm sure Ron and Hermione will wish to visit with their friend."  
  
"Thank you, Albus," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. She hadn't been looking forward to telling the Weasleys about what she had witnessed that summer. After another silence, she spoke again. "What are we going to do now, Albus?"  
  
He sighed. "Harry is perfectly safe here, Minerva. The wards you have around this place are quite strong and will be sufficient until we can put up stronger ones. For now, he needs time to rest and recover."  
  
She nodded. "Yes, Albus."  
  
He sighed again, more deeply this time. "I had best be going now."  
  
She raised her head and looked up at him. "So soon?"  
  
"I'm needed elsewhere right now, my dear," he replied, standing up.  
  
She stood as well, not releasing his hand. "I understand, Albus." She raised her free hand to stroke his cheek. "Stay safe."  
  
He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "I will."  
  
She rose on tiptoe and kissed him. His arms circled her waist as hers rose to wrap around his neck. They held each other close as their love found expression.  
  
* * *  
  
In his room, Harry could hear the murmur of their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. It didn't really matter to him. His mind was still on what Professor Dumbledore had told him. He would essentially get to pick who his guardian would be. And yet, wasn't that the crux of the problem? Everyone who had looked after him, or _wanted_ to look after him, had died: his parents, Sirius, even the Dursleys. It was only a matter of time before Minerva and the Weasleys were targeted as well. Could he really risk their lives like this? He'd be better off finding somewhere to hole up until term started. At least he wouldn't be risking anyone's life except his own.  
  
He blinked as he realized that the murmur of voices had died away. Wondering what had happened, he left the room. He stopped short on the kitchen threshold, eyes wide. Professor Dumbledore and Minerva were still in the kitchen, but they weren't talking; they were kissing. He tried to make a discrete exit, but the arrival of Hedwig ruined that idea. She swept through the open kitchen window with a screech that startled the two adults into pulling apart, two pairs of eyes searching for the cause of the disturbance. When Minerva's dark eyes landed on Harry, they widened and a dull flush crept into her cheeks. When Professor Dumbledore's bright blue ones landed on the boy as well, a twinkle appeared in their depths. "Well, Mr. Potter, it appears you've discovered our little secret." 


	3. Tabby Talks

3. Tabby Talks  
  
A/N: Lots of talking in this chapter. And lots of exposition, too. Meh.  
  
"Well, Mr. Potter, it appears you've discovered our little secret," Albus commented calmly.  
  
Harry could only gape at them as Hedwig landed on his shoulder. "You two-- together?" Both of them nodded. "For how long?"  
  
They looked at each other. "It'll be fifty-one years in, what, two weeks?"  
  
"Yes, Albus, two weeks."  
  
"Wow." Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than normal. "How--"  
  
"Harry, I'd love to stay and chat," Albus interrupted, "but I really must be leaving now. Minerva can answer any questions you might have."  
  
Harry nodded reluctantly. "Alright."  
  
Albus turned to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before whispering, "Tell him the truth, Minerva."  
  
She nodded. "I will, Albus; I promise."  
  
He smiled and turned to Harry. "Trust her, Harry."  
  
The boy nodded as Albus squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, and then left. Neither of them moved until the front door had shut behind the Headmaster.  
  
She sighed and pointed her wand at the table. A plate of sandwiches, a jug of iced pumpkin juice, and two goblets appeared on the table without so much as a pop. "We might as well eat while we're at it." She put her wand back in her pocket and sat down. "Have a seat, Harry."  
  
He sat, moving Hedwig from his shoulder to the back of an unoccupied chair. He watched as she poured pumpkin juice into their goblets and began to eat. Finally, he asked. "How did you two--y'know?"  
  
Minerva sighed. She didn't like reliving her past, but Harry deserved an honest answer. "I attended Hogwarts myself about sixty years ago, Harry. I see myself in Hermione Granger in many ways: prefect and Head Girl, top marks, always studying. The Head Boy, Samuel Potter--" Harry nearly choked on the bite of sandwich he'd taken and Minerva waited until he'd recovered before continuing, "--was very handsome and very nice. We dated for three years and married not long after we finished at Hogwarts."  
  
"But, what about--" Harry started, but Minerva cut him off.  
  
"I'm getting to that, Harry." He nodded and waited for her to continue. "Albus and my father, Patrick McGonagall, had met during their own schooldays and became friends. They were such good friends, in fact, that Albus agreed to be godfather to my brothers, sisters, and I. I grew up calling him uncle." She paused and took a sip of her pumpkin juice. "He was always there for the seven of us when we were at school, even Bella. He was so proud when I married Sam." Her smile was bittersweet. "The next two years were paradise. Sam and I were young and in love. I gave birth to twins, Daniel and Erica, less than a year after we were married." Harry stared at her, stunned. "Nothing could come between us, or so it seemed." She sighed and shook her head. "We were wrong. Sam's parents had both been Aurors and they were among the early victims of Grindelwald." She shuddered slightly. "Few of my generation are willing to say his name, even now. The deaths of his parents sent Sam into a deep depression. He was never really happy again. Sam began drinking heavily, costing him his job at the Ministry. I struggled to help make ends meet, but I was young and inexperienced with two young children to look after."  
  
She buried her face in her hands, struggling to compose herself before she continued. Harry didn't push or prod; he waited patiently until she was ready to go on. After several moments, Minerva sat up. "Before long, Sam began beating me on a regular basis." Harry's green eyes widened at this revelation. "I stayed with him, though. My only thought was for my children. We had to stay together for them, if not for us." Her hands clenched into fists. "One rainy night, when Daniel and Erica were a little over four years old, Sam came home drunk and found fault with me over one thing or another. Then he started hitting me." Her eyes were haunted as she stared blindly at the table, lost in memories. "When he hit Daniel for trying to protect me, I snapped. I Stunned Sam, grabbed the twins, and headed to Hogwarts, where Albus was still teaching." Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, but she made no move to wipe them away. "I refused to tell him anything until the twins had been put to bed. Then, the whole story poured out. I confessed everything to Albus and he held me as I cried. Sam and I were divorced not long afterwards. Thanks to Albus' influence, the proceedings didn't take long, but my sense of self-worth had been beat to a pulp. I left the twins with Arabella and her husband, Kevin, and traveled to the continent to help in the fight against Grindelwald."  
  
Harry interrupted the silence. "If you were married to Samuel Potter, why is your last name McGonagall?"  
  
"I changed my name back to McGonagall after the divorce was finalized," she explained. "Daniel and Erica chose to remain Potters, however."  
  
"How long were you and Samuel married, anyway?" Harry asked.  
  
"Five years." She sighed. "Five years that started out in heaven and ended in hell." She sighed again. "I was there when Albus defeated Grindelwald. If I hadn't been there, Albus would be dead." Tears were trickling down her cheeks again. "I'd had a crush on Albus for years, but ignored it. He was my godfather, after all. Watching him fall, though, made me realize just how much he meant to me. I managed to keep him from dying, but it was a long time before he could even be moved. During those long weeks alone, we did a lot of talking, especially once he started mending." She pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose. "I confessed to my feelings and he admitted attending my wedding had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done because he'd wished he had been standing in Sam's place." She sighed again. "We were married not long after we returned to England and Albus gladly adopted Daniel and Erica."  
  
"But your last name is still McGonagall," Harry pointed out. "Why?"  
  
"We decided not to change my name because Albus had made far too many enemies to risk anyone learning of our marriage," she told him, "and I have made my share of enemies since."  
  
Harry nodded, and blurted out his out next question, "Are we related?"  
  
She smiled. "Yes, Harry. Albus and I have two children of our own: Anna and Tiberius Potter. However, _Daniel_ is your grandfather."  
  
He sat for a moment, absorbing that information. "Then why didn't I see you in the Mirror of Erised?"  
  
"Albus and I have considered that," she admitted. "The only reason we could come up with is that I _am_ alive and the Mirror only showed those of your family who were not."  
  
Harry nodded. When his eyes met hers once more, though, she was surprised to see anger in them. "Why did I have to live with the Durselys, then? Why couldn't I have lived with you and Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
She should have known he would ask. "Because it was your _mother's_ blood that would protect you, Harry. I am related through your _father's_ blood and Albus isn't related to you except through his marriage to me."  
  
He still glared at her. "You couldn't have told me that you were related to me? I've known you five years and you haven't said anything before now."  
  
"Harry, that's enough." Minerva hated to be stern with him, but she didn't have much of a choice. "I suggest you go to bed and get some sleep. We'll talk again in the morning." He glared at her, but she merely raised an eyebrow. Sighing, he stood and stalked out of the room.  
  
Minerva waved her wand and the platter, jug, and goblets all disappeared. She sighed and buried her face in her hands. _Albus, hurry home._  
  
* * *  
  
Albus slipped into bed with her early in the morning, exhausted. She turned in her sleep and snuggled close to him, pillowing her head on his beard. He gladly wrapped his arms around her and let sleep claim him. The doorbell ringing woke him up several hours later. Beside him, Minerva stirred and slowly woke up. She frowned slightly, and then opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw who was in bed with her. "Good morning, Albus."  
  
"Good morning, my dear," he replied, kissing her. After several delicious moments, he reluctantly pulled away. "You'd better go answer the door."  
  
She sighed and nodded. She reluctantly got up and pulled her tartan dressing gown on, tying the sash around her waist tightly. She paused at the door. "Don't lay around too long. Harry still has questions."  
  
He nodded and watched her leave. He waited until he heard the front door open and close before getting up and changing into a set of lightweight robes. He emerged from the bedroom just as Harry emerged from his. The boy glared at him for a moment before stalking down the hall to the living room. Albus followed him with a slight frown. Something Minerva had told Harry last night had made him angry. When he reached the living room, he discovered several cats roaming around the room and Arabella sitting on the couch with Minerva. The two were talking in low voices and looked up when Harry and Albus entered. "Hello, Bella."  
  
"Hello, Albus." Arabella smiled up at him, and then moved her gaze to Harry. Her eyes narrowed slightly and Albus assumed the boy's anger was still evident. "Hello, Harry."  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Figg," Harry replied, sounding sullen.  
  
Minerva frowned as he flopped into a chair nearby. "Harry, I explained why you had to go to the Dursleys, now stop sulking."  
  
He glared at Minerva, but she didn't back down, looking at him over the tops of her glasses. Arabella looked from one to the other, confused. "Min, how much have you told him?"  
  
Minerva sighed and turned to her sister. "Everything."  
  
Arabella's eyes widened. "So, he knows about you and Albus?"  
  
"And how she's related to me," Harry volunteered as Albus crossed to the couch and sat down beside Minerva.  
  
Minerva sighed. "Harry, we would have taken you in if we could have. Neither of us wanted to see you left with the Dursleys." Harry softened slightly, though he was still angry. Minerva looked up at Albus, and then back at Harry. "What I forgot to mention last night is that few people are even aware that Albus and I are married. To have us take you in would have been suspicious." She got up and crouched in front of Harry's chair. "We love you, Harry, and no one regrets more than Albus and I that you've had to live with those Dursleys all these years. That's why Bella agreed to live nearby: to help keep an eye on you."  
  
Harry stared down at her, the anger slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he slid from the chair and hugged her, burying his face in the shoulder of her tartan bathrobe. Albus stood and knelt beside them. When the boy's arm stole around him, tears of relief sprang to his eyes. When they pulled apart, every single one of them had wet eyes. "We still need to determine who your guardian will be, Harry."  
  
The boy looked up at them, his emerald eyes unreadable. "Do I really need a guardian, Professor? I'm almost 16, after all."  
  
Albus shook his head, squeezing the boy's shoulder. "You need a guardian until you turn 17, Harry. And you may call me Uncle Albus if you like."  
  
Harry nodded and pulled away from them, pacing towards the fireplace. "Don't even think about running off, Harry."  
  
The other three spun to face Arabella. Albus and Minerva were shocked by the suggestion, but Harry appeared to be startled. "What do you mean, Bella?"  
  
She advanced on the boy. "I haven't watched him for fifteen years for nothing, Min. I'm willing to bet Harry has been making plans to run off and hide somewhere by himself ever since you first mentioned appointing a new guardian."  
  
Albus and Minerva looked at Harry. He returned their gaze for a few seconds, and then dropped his eyes to the carpet. "Is she right, Harry?" Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. "Why?"  
  
"Because it seems like everyone who's been appointed as my guardian has died," he whispered, his eyes on the toes of his trainers. "I don't want anyone else to die."  
  
Minerva reached him first, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Harry, look at me." She waited until his eyes met hers. "You can't push us away, Harry. We won't let you. And I doubt Ron and Hermione would let you push them away, either. Never underestimate the power of friendship, Harry."  
  
"Or love," Albus inserted, standing at Minerva's shoulder. "You know what it did for you at the Department of Mysteries, Harry."  
  
He sighed and nodded. "Yes, Uncle Albus."  
  
"So, would you like some time to decide who you would like to care for you?" Minerva asked briskly, dropping her hands from Harry's shoulders.  
  
He smiled slightly. "You two."  
  
Minerva smiled in response. "Well, I would be your sole guardian, but Albus will be your unofficial guardian as well. How does that sound?"  
  
He grinned. "That sounds perfect."  
  
* * *  
  
"Albus, hello," Molly Weasley greeted the Headmaster warmly, if a bit stiffly.  
  
"Good morning, Molly," Albus replied, dusting soot from his robes. "Is Arthur here?"  
  
She nodded, even as she offered him a seat. "Would you like me to go get him?"  
  
"Yes, please." Albus nodded.  
  
Molly stood at the bottom of the staircase and called up them, "Arthur! I need to speak with you!" There was an inaudible reply and Molly returned. "He'll right down."  
  
"Thank you, Molly," Albus told her sincerely.  
  
"Would you like some tea?" she offered solicitously.  
  
"Yes, thank you." Albus watched as she bustled around the kitchen.  
  
By the time he had his tea, Arthur had arrived. "Yes, Molly? Oh, hello, Albus."  
  
"Good morning, Arthur," Albus greeted the tall, thin wizard. "I need to speak with both of you."  
  
Arthur and Molly exchanged a look and sat down at the table. "Is this about Harry?"  
  
Albus nodded, sipping at the tea. "Yes, it is, as a matter of fact."  
  
"When will he be coming to stay at the Burrow?" Molly asked anxiously.  
  
Arthur placed a restraining hand on her arm. "Molly."  
  
Albus sighed. "Harry won't be coming to the Burrow."  
  
"What?!" Molly started swelling up angrily. "You're going to leave him with those Muggles all summer?"  
  
Albus held up a hand to interrupt her. "I didn't say that, either, Molly."  
  
"Oh." She deflated a little, looking sheepish. "Sorry."  
  
"Quite alright, Molly," Albus assured her, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "As I said, Harry will not be staying here or the Dursleys this summer.  
  
The two redheads looked confused. "Then where, Albus?"  
  
"With Minerva," he told them simply and sipped his tea.  
  
They exchanged confused looks. "Why with Minerva, Albus?"  
  
He sighed and set his cup down on the table. "The Dursleys overstepped their bounds and Minerva intervened before it could get worse. Yesterday afternoon, Voldemort killed the Dursleys."  
  
"So the poor boy has no family left?" Molly asked compassionately.  
  
Albus shook his head, which could have meant he was confirming Molly's assessment or denying it. However, he didn't give them a chance to think about it. "Poppy has already stated that Harry needs peace and quiet for now, so Minerva volunteered to look after him."  
  
"Who will be his new Guardian?" Arthur asked.  
  
Albus sighed. This was not going to please them. "Harry has requested that Minerva be appointed as his new Guardian."  
  
Molly and Arthur stared at him. "I don't mean to be insulting, but why?"  
  
Albus folded his hands together on the table, choosing his words carefully. He was treading on very thin ice. "Harry has his reasons, I'm sure. However, Minerva has told me that Ron and Hermione will be welcome to visit with Harry, should they so desire."  
  
"What about his other friends?" Molly asked, her hand tightly entwined with Arthur's.  
  
Albus nodded. "I'm sure they will be welcome as well."  
  
"Albus, when you say the Dursleys overstepped their bounds," Arthur's voice was quiet. "What exactly did you mean by it?"  
  
Albus took a deep breath. "They abused Harry. Physically and mentally."  
  
Arthur swallowed hard. "Not sexually, I hope."  
  
Albus shook his head. "Harry has not indicated that and Minerva saw no signs of it herself."  
  
Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for telling us, Albus."  
  
Albus nodded. "You're welcome, Arthur." He stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I must be going."  
  
Arthur and Molly stood and shook the Headmaster's hand. With a cry of "Leómann Cottage!" and a roar of green flames, he was gone. 


	4. Prongs, Jr Learns About Tabby

4. Prongs, Jr. Learns About Tabby  
  
A/N: Sorry about the delay. Been busy. I had the first part written, but the rest of it took some time. Okay, on with the fic!  
  
"How are you feeling today, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked, examining the teenager.  
  
"_Much_ better," he replied with a smile, glancing over at Minerva, who waited nearby with Mrs. Figg.  
  
Madam Pomfrey glanced at the two sisters. "Well, overall, you're fine, but you need to eat better." She smiled. "I'm sure Minerva will see to that."  
  
"Indeed, I will, Poppy," Minerva inserted.  
  
Harry smiled. Madam Pomfrey left shortly afterwards. Minerva then excused herself to change out of her bathrobe, leaving Harry alone with Mrs. Figg. After fidgeting for a few moments, Harry spoke up. "Mrs. Figg?"  
  
"You might as well call me Aunt Bella," she told him, sitting down on the couch across from the armchair he was curled up in.  
  
"Alright," he replied, absently petting the white, black, and orange calico cat who'd jumped into his lap. "Er, do you know why Aunt Minerva gave Anna and Tiberius the last name Potter?"  
  
"What, you mean instead of Wilson or Linden or a name like that?" Arabella asked. Harry nodded. "Well, I suppose it was because they already had two children with the last name of Potter, so they figured 'why not?'"  
  
"But Sam had treated Aunt Minerva so horribly," Harry pointed out, memories of what the Dursleys had done to him still very fresh in his mind. "Wouldn't she rather have forgotten about it?"  
  
"The mistakes we forget are the ones we repeat, Harry," Minerva commented from the doorway. She was wearing lightweight powder blue robes and her hair was pulled back into a French braid. "I had no desire to repeat the mistake I made with Sam."  
  
"And you didn't, Min," Arabella inserted quietly. "I wondered why you didn't marry Albus in the first place."  
  
"Because Sam asked first," Minerva answered with quiet dignity as she sat down beside her sister on the couch. "And the fact that there's such a large gap between Albus' age and my own."  
  
"Well, you followed my advice in the end," Arabella countered with a smile.  
  
"And what _was_ your advice, Aunt Bella?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"To marry the old coot and be done with it," Arabella told Harry with a wink.  
  
"I'm glad you have such a high opinion of me, Arabella," Albus commented mildly from the kitchen doorway, bright blue eyes twinkling merrily.  
  
Arabella didn't even blush. "You know I think you're the best wizard in the world, Uncle."  
  
He inclined his head with mock gravity. "Thank you, Arabella."  
  
"You're welcome, Albus." Arabella returned the nod and stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me."  
  
Harry watched as she disappeared down the hallway. "Why is she here and not in Surrey?"  
  
Albus sat down beside Minerva and looked at Harry. "Because _you're_ not living in Surrey anymore, Harry."  
  
"Oh." Harry looked down at the cat in his lap. "That makes sense."  
  
There was a pause. Finally, Minerva broke the silence that had descended on the room. "Well, Albus? How did Arthur and Molly take the news?"  
  
Harry looked up and watched as Albus turned to look at his wife. "They were a little puzzled by Harry's choice, but they're willing to accept it."  
  
Minerva nodded and entwined Albus' fingers with her own. "I just hope Ron and Hermione will be as accepting."  
  
"Speaking of them," Harry inserted before Albus could reply. Both adults looked at him. "When can they come visit?"  
  
Minerva smiled. "Whenever you wish, Harry, but remember what Poppy said."  
  
Harry made a face and slouched back in the chair, still petting the cat in his lap. "Take it easy and try not to do too much."  
  
"That sounds familiar," Albus commented placidly, looking pointedly at Minerva. The dark-haired witch stared back at him for a moment before a faint blush appeared in her cheeks and she looked away.  
  
Sudden realization hit Harry. "Where's your walking stick, Aunt Minerva? Shouldn't you be using it?"  
  
She gave him stern look. "I don't need my walking stick, Harry. Nor do I need you hovering over me like a mother hen. Albus and Poppy already fuss over me enough as it is."  
  
Harry subsided for the moment, but resolved to keep an eye out for her anyway. A comfortable silence settled over the three of them as they simply enjoyed each other's company. It wasn't long before Harry fell asleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Minerva and Albus watched Harry sleep for a few moments before getting up and leaving him curled up in the chair. They retreated to the kitchen, where Arabella was feeding her cats. "What do you think, Bella?"  
  
She didn't look up from what she was doing. "I think he needs his friends right now. They'll be able to talk some sense into him."  
  
"Have you ever met them?" Albus asked as she set bowls of cat food on the floor, clucking her tongue.  
  
Arabella watched the cats rush in and begin to eat. "No, but friends are what that boy needs most right now." She looked up at the couple in front of her. "As well as family."  
  
Harry followed the cats into the kitchen, looking annoyed. "Your cat clawed me in her eagerness to eat, Aunt Bella."  
  
Arabella smiled at the teenager. "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't know you were asleep."  
  
He shrugged uncomfortably. "Forget it."  
  
"Harry?" He looked at his great grandmother. "Would you like Ron and Hermione to visit today?"  
  
His face lit up as he nodded eagerly. "Sure!"  
  
"Go get dressed and we'll head over to the Burrow," Minerva told him. He nodded and bolted out of the kitchen. Minerva sighed. "That's the happiest I've seen him all summer."  
  
"We'll just have to make sure the rest of the summer makes up for the beginning, my dear," Albus told her, his hand on her shoulder.  
  
She nodded, covering his hand with hers for a moment. Arabella turned away, blinking back tears. It had been years since Kevin had died, but she still missed him at times.  
  
Harry clattered into the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and his ragged trainers. "I'm ready!"  
  
Minerva smiled at him. "You know how to use Floo Powder, Harry."  
  
He walked over to the kitchen fireplace, grabbed a pinch of the glittering green dust from the bowl on the mantle and tossed it onto the flickering flames. "The Burrow!"  
  
He disappeared in a rush of green flames. Minerva followed not long afterwards.  
  
* * *  
  
"Bloody hell!" Were the first words Harry heard upon his arrival at the Burrow.  
  
"Harry!" Was the next word he heard.  
  
He grinned, dusting the soot from his clothes. "Hi, Ron, Hermione."  
  
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, even as Harry herded his friends back from the fireplace. "I thought you were with your relatives?"  
  
Harry's expression dimmed. "Not anymore."  
  
Before either of his friends could ask, the flames turned green and Minerva rolled gracefully to her feet. "Hello, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."  
  
"Hello, Professor," they chorused, staring at her.  
  
She calmly pulled her spectacles out of her pocket, put them on, and brushed her dress off. "Have you asked yet, Harry?"  
  
"Asked us what, Harry?" Ron demanded suspiciously, a little startled that their Transfiguration professor had called his friend by his first name.  
  
"Listen, I'm staying with the professor right now and I was wondering if you two would like to come and visit for awhile?" Harry asked hurriedly.  
  
Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, and then looked at Minerva. She nodded reassuringly. Shrugging, Ron answered, "Sure, why not?"  
  
* * *  
  
Albus caught Harry when he tumbled out of the kitchen fireplace. "Alright there, Harry?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied, brushing soot off his clothes for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.  
  
Hermione tumbled out of the fireplace next, followed by Ron, and finally Minerva. Albus caught all three, although his hands lingered on Minerva's arms. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed surprised to find Albus at Minerva's house. Nor did they seem to find the sight of the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress together surprising. "Hello, Professor."  
  
"Good morning, Miss Granger," Albus answered gravely, his eyes twinkling. "Good morning, Mr. Weasley."  
  
"Hi, Professor," Ron replied, looking curiously around the kitchen. There was a cat sprawled on the kitchen counter and another cat was curled up on one of the kitchen chairs. Arabella was nowhere in sight. Minerva calmly shooed the cat off the counter.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed, but he caught a look from Minerva and hastily composed himself. "C'mon, let's go to my room."  
  
"Right," Ron and Hermione followed Harry down the hall to his bedroom.  
  
Harry seated himself on his bed and gestured to the two chairs. "Have a seat." They sat. "Is there something you two haven't told me?"  
  
They exchanged a puzzled glance. Hermione spoke first, choosing her words carefully. "What exactly do you mean, Harry?"  
  
He snorted. "Neither of you seemed to be very surprised to find Uncle Albus in Aunt Minerva's kitchen."  
  
"Uncle Albus?" Ron repeated. "Aunt Minerva? Harry, are you nuts?"  
  
"What?" Harry asked. "They requested I call them that instead of 'Professor' all summer."  
  
"You're staying _here_ all summer?" Ron asked incredulously.  
  
"Yes," Harry answered firmly. "That still doesn't answer my question."  
  
"What was it, again?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Did you two know there was something going on between Uncle Albus and Aunt Minerva?" Harry asked, trying to keep his temper under control. It did him no good to lash out.  
  
"Well, yeah," Ron replied. Hermione nodded when Harry looked at her.  
  
He threw his hands up in the air. "Were you planning on telling me anytime soon?"  
  
"We thought you knew," Ron replied, bewildered. Hermione nodded her agreement.  
  
"Why would you think that?" Harry asked them incredulously.  
  
Ron looked at Hermione. Her brow was furrowed with thought. Suddenly, her face went pale. "Ron, he wasn't there at the time."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded as Ron's face paled so that his freckles stood out.  
  
"Blimey, Hermione." Ron dragged a hand through his hair. "Sorry, mate, we forgot that you weren't there when we found out."  
  
Harry was glaring at them. "Wasn't where? 12 Grimmauld Place?" Both of them nodded. "_How_ did you find out?"  
  
Ron looked slightly ill. "Before Mum found out about the Extendable Ears, we overheard something we wished we hadn't."  
  
"What...did you hear?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
Ron looked at his feet. Hermione was the one who answered. "Let's just say more than we wanted to."  
  
Harry considered that for a moment. "Alright, I understand."  
  
She studied him. "Do _you_ know now?"  
  
He nodded. "Yeah, I walked in on them snogging."  
  
Even Ron's freckles paled. "Oh, yuck."  
  
Hermione elbowed him. "Come on, Ron, would you rather she snogged Snape?"  
  
Ron made a face. "Okay, Hermione, you made your point. Can we talk about something else, please?"  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry's choice is fortuitous, in a way," Albus told Minerva and Arabella as the three sat in the living room.  
  
"What do you mean, Uncle?" Arabella asked, absently stroking the cat in her lap.  
  
Albus paused to gather his thoughts. "You know the reason he had to live with the Durselys, of course." Arabella nodded and muttered something under her breath that Albus and Minerva chose not to hear. "Well, since none of Harry's family on his mother's side still live, it is better that he live with family on his father's side than with people who are not related at all."  
  
"Meaning the two of us," Minerva commented, waving her hand to indicate herself and Arabella.  
  
Albus nodded. "Exactly. You are directly related to him through James and Daniel. Arabella is related because she's your sister."  
  
Minerva nodded, her face grave. "Albus, what do you suppose You-Know-Who will do now?"  
  
He sighed heavily. "Minerva, I should think you wouldn't be afraid to name him by now."  
  
She sniffed angrily. "The name he fashioned for himself is ridiculous, Albus. I refuse to say it."  
  
"So call him He-With-The-Ridiculous-Name," Arabella suggested cheerfully.  
  
Minerva glared at her sister before turning to her husband. "You still haven't answered my question, Albus.  
  
He sighed again. "I don't know, Minerva. I really don't know." 


	5. Tabby and Prongs, Jr

5. Tabby and Prongs, Jr.  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long. I suffered from a bad case of writer's block. I managed to get past it, though, and am proud to announce that this story is finished. I know a lot of you have requested that I take this through Harry's sixth year, but I never intended to go beyond the summer with this story. Thank you for all your reviews and encouragement. Almost every review I received requested that I write more.  
  
After visiting with Harry for an hour or so, Ron and Hermione returned to the Burrow. It was obvious the boy was a little sad to see his friends go, but Minerva insisted that Harry still needed rest. Harry would be allowed to go to the Burrow the following day, however. Harry slouched into a chair at the kitchen table once his friends were gone and sighed. Minerva studied him for a moment. As Poppy had said, he was on the thin side, but he was slowly getting better. "Harry?"  
  
He looked up at her, eyes carefully shuttered. "Yes, Aunt Minerva?"  
  
"What do you think of having a birthday party?" Minerva asked softly. She and Albus had discussed the possibility and Arabella had shown enthusiasm for the idea. "I doubt you've had many."  
  
The boy shook his head, eyes still shuttered. "No, I haven't had any. Not with the Dursleys, at any rate." He sighed.  
  
"Would you _like_ to have a birthday party?" she persisted, sitting down across from him at the table. One of the cats promptly jumped into her lap.  
  
He stared at the tabletop for a long moment before looking up at her, his eyes shining. "I would like that very much, Aunt Minerva."  
  
She smiled at him. "Then you shall have a birthday party. Who would you like to invite?"  
  
"Ron and Hermione, of course," Harry answered promptly. "Dean, Seamus, and Neville." He paused, thinking. "Neville's birthday is near mine, isn't it?"  
  
Minerva nodded. "Yes, it's the day before yours."  
  
"Can we have the party for both of us?" Harry asked eagerly. "He was fantastic in the Department of Mysteries and--"  
  
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes filling with tears. Minerva left her seat in a hurry, much to the dismay of the cat in her lap, and moved around the table to embrace Harry. He buried his face in her shoulder, letting the tears that had been bottled up for so long go. Minerva's own eyes were far from dry as she held her great-grandson. "Oh, Harry, if I could, I would take this burden from you."  
  
"I know," he sobbed. "I see it now."  
  
A roar in the fireplace made them pull apart and turn towards it. Albus unfolded himself and eyed their tear-stained faces curiously. "Well, Albus?"  
  
"I've brought someone to help care for Harry," he told them, blue eyes concerned.  
  
Harry looked puzzled. "Who?"  
  
There was a loud crack and a house elf wearing odd clothes appeared, beaming. "Dobby, sir!"  
  
The boy grinned and caught the house elf as he launched himself at the boy. "Hello, Dobby. How are you?"  
  
"I is fine, I is!" Dobby chirped, beaming. He looked closely at Harry. "But you is not! What has Harry Potter done to himself?"  
  
Scolding the boy, Dobby ushered Harry out of the room. Albus turned to his wife. "What's wrong, Minerva?"  
  
She swiped at the tear tracks on her face as she told him about her conversation with Harry. "I'm afraid his grief for Sirius is still strong." She sighed. "As is mine."  
  
He pulled her into his arms and held her close. "I understand my dear."  
  
She sighed. "If only I hadn't got hit by those Stunners. Harry could have come to me, he wouldn't have had to rely on Severus."  
  
"Shh, my dear, shh," he murmured, kissing her temple. "What do I always tell you?"  
  
She sighed. "That there is no way we can know the consequences our choices and actions might have. We can only hope the choices we make and the actions we take will turn out for the best."  
  
"Exactly." He nodded.  
  
She pulled back to look up at him. "The same goes for you, Albus."  
  
He raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Me, my dear?"  
  
She nodded firmly. "Yes. You've probably been regretting your own actions, thinking that Sirius would still be with us if you had chosen to act differently." Unable to deny it, he remained silent. She framed his face with her hands. "Albus, there is no use in crying over spilled milk. Accept that you made some mistakes and move on. We all made mistakes this past year, including Harry. Rushing off to the Department of Mysteries wasn't a good idea, but at least now Cornelius can't deny that He-With-The- Ridiculous-Name has returned."  
  
He smiled and gently pulled her hands down to kiss the palms. "Thank you, my dear, you always know what to say. You are as wise as your namesake."  
  
She blushed, looking down. "You're welcome, Albus."  
  
He tilted her chin up to meet his kiss. She sighed and melted into it, her arms sliding around his waist.  
  
"Min--Oh!" Poppy Pomfrey's voice made the husband and wife pull apart and look at the fireplace.  
  
"You couldn't have had better timing Poppy," Minerva told her friend sarcastically, walking over to crouch in front of the fireplace.  
  
The mediwitch was grinning unrepentantly. "I'm sorry, Minerva."  
  
Albus patted his wife's shoulder. "It's quite alright, Poppy. Why did you call?"  
  
Poppy's grin disappeared. "Do you know where Alastor is? I haven't seen him since Tonks left the hospital wing."  
  
Minerva glanced up at Albus, curious herself. Albus sighed. "I'm afraid I had to ask him to do something for me, Poppy, and I asked him not to tell anyone where he is going."  
  
Poppy's chin trembled for a moment, and then steadied. "Thank you, Headmaster."  
  
"You're welcome, Poppy," Albus' voice was grave.  
  
Poppy's head disappeared with a pop. Minerva straightened and glared up at her husband. "Why, Albus?"  
  
He gazed down at her, nonplussed. "What do you mean, my dear?"  
  
She folded her arms across her chest. "You know bloody well what I mean."  
  
He shook his head, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robes. "No, I don't, actually."  
  
Minerva sighed. "She needs him right now, Albus." His only response was to raise an eyebrow. "They're in love, Albus." His eyes widened, surprised. "They have been for years, but neither would admit to it until last year." Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "You didn't see her when she found him in his own trunk. I did." She swallowed a sob. "If it had been you instead of Alastor, I would probably look about the same as she did."  
  
He drew her into a comforting embrace as she choked back another sob. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I was not aware that anything had changed in their relationship." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I cannot interrupt his mission at this moment. I will, of course, ask him to return as soon as I can, but I can do no more than that."  
  
Minerva nodded. "I understand, Albus."  
  
"Good."  
  
* * *  
  
The next two weeks passed in a blur for Harry and Minerva. He slowly regained his strength, recovering from the beatings and malnourishment he'd suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. Arabella eventually returned to her own cottage nearby, which had been closed up for the past fifteen years. Albus was a frequent visitor, but his duties as Headmaster and Order business often kept him from his wife and great-grandson. When Albus managed to visit, he would assist Harry with his Occlumency training. The boy had learned his lesson well and was rapidly becoming an accomplished Occlumens. Harry still resented being ignored by the Headmaster for much of his fifth year, but, thanks to long talks with Minerva, he came to understand how much it had hurt Albus to ignore him in the first place. It would be a long time before he trusted Albus as completely as he once had, but he had made a good start.  
  
Ron and Hermione visited often, or Harry visited them at the Burrow. Molly Weasley still fussed over him, and he was thankful for her attention. If the decision had been left up to him, he would have withdrawn into himself and distanced himself from his friends. Ron and Hermione, however, refused to be pushed away. Harry bowed to the inevitable and, truth be told, was thankful for their friendship.  
  
* * *  
  
Finally, the day of the party arrived. Harry wore robes he and Minerva had bought at Diagon Alley several days before and he was looking forward to seeing everyone he'd invited. Hermione and the Weasleys were among the first to arrive. Dean, Seamus, and Neville weren't far behind. The round- faced boy thanked Harry profusely for including him. Soon the backyard was overflowing with guests and Harry couldn't remember ever being happier.  
  
Minerva came to a stop beside him, looking out at the gathering. "Well, Harry, how do you like your birthday party?"  
  
He smiled up at her. "It's wonderful, Aunt Minerva."  
  
She smiled down at him, tenderly brushing his hair out of his eyes. "What do you say to opening some presents?"  
  
His smile widened. "I'd love to."  
  
Minerva announced that it was time to open presents and everyone trooped inside. As they gathered in the living room, where the presents for the two birthday boys had been piled, it magically enlarged to accommodate everyone. Harry and Neville took turns opening presents. By the time all the presents had been opened, it was safe to say Harry had received more presents just on that day than he had received from the Dursleys in fourteen years. The best presents of all, though, came after everyone had left and he was sitting quietly with Albus and Minerva in the sitting room.  
  
"Here you are, Harry."  
  
He took the thin, gift-wrapped package Minerva held out to him and unwrapped it eagerly. His eyes misted over when he read the paperwork declaring Minerva Renee McGonagall to be his legal guardian. "Thank you, Aunt Minerva."  
  
She returned his hug tightly, her own eyes misty behind her glasses. "You're welcome, Harry."  
  
"And here is mine, Harry." Albus held out a small, flat, gift-wrapped package once Minerva had released Harry.  
  
He eagerly unwrapped it and found himself staring at a family photograph of Albus, Minerva, and their four children. It was obvious which two were Daniel and Erica and which two were Anna and Tiberius. Daniel and Erica were a good seven years older than Anna and about nine years older than Tiberius. It was to Daniel that Harry's eyes were drawn. Though the picture was in black and white, Harry was almost certain the boy had messy black hair like James and himself. Albus tapped the frame with his wand and Harry watched, wide-eyed, as the inhabitants of the picture slowly aged. A woman appeared at Daniel's side first, reminding Harry of his father in a way, and then a man wrapped his arms around Erica. After a long moment, Anna was swept off her feet by a handsome man and, finally, a lovely woman appeared in Tiberius' arms. Harry looked up at his great-grandfather. "Thank you, Uncle Albus."  
  
"You're welcome, my boy," Albus replied quietly.  
  
Nodding to them, Harry said good night and left. Albus drew his wife into his arms. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "That was a very thoughtful gift, Albus."  
  
He nodded, content to hold her. "I know, my dear. I wanted him to finally get to know his family. He's been kept in the dark for too long."  
  
"I agree," she responded, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. "Happy anniversary, Albus. I love you."  
  
"And I, you, Minerva," he answered softly, kissing the top of her head. "Happy anniversary." She tilted her head up and kissed him. For a long time, they sat holding each other.  
  
In his room, Harry fell asleep with his eyes on the picture. For now, all was quiet and calm, but it wouldn't stay that way. With his great- grandparents to help him, though, Harry knew he stood a good chance of defeating Voldemort. It was only a matter of time.  
  
End 


End file.
